Some Enchanted Evening
by Liete
Summary: -US/UK- 'But for all the dancing he was swept into, his eyes would always scan the crowd for the one person he really wanted to be twirling around the dance floor. The one who had taught him those dances in the first place.'


**Some Enchanted Evening  
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**By: Liete**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.**

**A/N: I honestly thought I'd posted all of my old stuff, but I unearthed this short one!  
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If nothing else, France sure knew how to throw a party. It was the kind of soiree that America didn't mind getting dressed up for, with good food, good company, and a classy musical atmosphere provided by Austria.

America was so caught up in the atmosphere that he had adopted an air about him that wasn't his usual obnoxious energy that turned people off, but a dashing elegance that was sincere and drew nations that would normally avoid him to strike up a conversation.

Then there were the dances. America was a bit clumsy on his feet, and fancy waltzes were never his strong point, but he managed to keep in rhythm and only a few feet suffered from his lack of grace. He had to admit, it was rather fun to sweep the female nations off their feet and prove any misgivings they had about him wrong, and to get to know them in turn. Taiwan was quiet, but charming with that light dusting of pink on her cheeks. Ukraine was…intimidating (America would clear his throat and blush slightly at that), but had an undeniable warmth about her. Belarus's passion was admirable, even if it was directed towards clinging meaningfully to America while casting pointed looks in Russia's direction. Hungary…well, there was a cute, if unreadable twinkle in her eye when she asked who he had danced with that evening.

But for all the dancing he was swept into, his eyes would always scan the crowd for the one person he really wanted to be twirling around the dance floor. The one who had taught him those dances in the first place. As the night wore on and he found no sign of that person, he started to feel a bit dejected, though he wouldn't show that outwardly.

It was about the point when Russia of all people was asking for a dance that he finally caught sight of those unmistakable thick eyebrows he'd been looking for all night. He gratefully excused himself from the Russian and made his way across the room to the older nation hiding in the corner.

England was as dressed up as anyone else in the room, but there was something about him that was captivating, and America thought it was a shame that England was trying to hide from everyone. Somehow nursing back a glass of wine while looking thoroughly irritated suited him, but it was still a shame that he felt he had to hide. Well, all that meant was it was time for a hero to step in and save the night!

America cleared his throat to catch the grumpy nation's attention and smiled winningly when furrowed brows turned in his direction. He bowed slightly and extended his hand.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance?" America asked smoothly and was awarded with the Briton's cheeks flaring up.

"What makes you think I'm here to dance? Much less with you?" England sputtered in reply.

"It's too fine a night to be scowling in the shadows," America said, smile spreading, "I'll even let you lead if you want."

England's blush deepened and he turned his head defiantly. "I'm not interested, America. Go bug someone else."

The charm he'd adopted that evening called for leaving England where he was and going back to where the ladies were waiting for another dance, but his hero complex begged him to save the damsel in distress, that is, England.

Thus, America grabbed England's hand, England's head snapping in his direction and his eyes widening, and leaned over to brush a light kiss across his knuckles.

"Nothing would make my evening better than to dance with you, England," he said with a charming smile.

England cleared his throat and snatched his hand away. "W-Well, if you insist. It's not like I really want to, I just can't say no to such a pathetic plea!"

America's smile widened and he reached out to grab England's hand to drag him out on the dance floor. "Whatever you say!"


End file.
